Before heading to St. John’s—our final destination and the capital of Newfoundland—we made a couple of stops along the way, starting with Brigus and Cupids.
Brigus is a small fishing community with a rich maritime history. It was home to Captain Bob Bartlett, one of the greatest ice navigators of the 20th century. The town has well-preserved old-style architecture reflecting its English, Irish, and Welsh heritage. Walking through Brigus feels like stepping into the late 19th century. The town is also known for hosting an annual blueberry festival, which I had read about beforehand.
I had also read that a certain restaurant in Brigus serves the best-ever blueberry crisp. We didn’t have a reservation, but we were willing to wait. They put us on the list for 45 minutes, so we wandered around a nearby park while we waited. When we returned, we were finally seated and ordered two blueberry crisps, which were essentially pre-baked blueberry pie with ice cream. After an entire hour of sitting at the table with nothing, we called the waitress to ask what was going on, how much longer we suppose to wait. She said: “I don’t know. There are a lot of tables before you.” We didn’t have time to wait three hours for a piece of pie, so we just left and went to Cupids—the first English colony in Canada (and the second in North America).
In Cupids, I was most interested in the Spectacle Head Trail. Massive Spectacle Head—or “Sparticle Head”. The 100-meter climb to its summit brings to “the American Man,” a tall stone cairn that has stood on the hilltop in one form or another for generations. The view over Conception Bay is absolutely spectacular.
This is also where I finally understood why the annual blueberry festival happens in this area—blueberries were everywhere. Whether it was a good idea or not, I couldn’t stop picking and eating them, which dramatically slowed us down. My son, who is usually the one trailing behind on any hike, was growing increasingly frustrated and kept asking, “What are you doing over there?” But every time I spotted a bush, the berries just kept getting bigger and juicier, and I simply could not resist.
By the end of the hike, I may not have gotten a piece of blueberry pie, but I definitely had my fair share of blueberries for the day.
As the final part of our road trip, I wanted to drive around the Irish Loop—a scenic route that winds through the southeastern Avalon Peninsula, hugging the coastline and passing through small, picturesque communities. The full loop spans 312 kilometers and takes about four hours to complete, but with so many side roads and hidden gems along the way, it’s easy to make a full day of it.
We started the drive, stopping at scenic viewpoints along the way, before heading toward our overnight stay near the southeastern tip of the peninsula, in a place called St Shott’s. As we got closer, the landscape began to change—trees and even bushes disappeared, leaving behind a vast, open expanse of flat land, with no one in sight for miles.
Later, we learned from locals that this was due to the area’s harsh climate, especially the relentless winter winds that make it nearly impossible for vegetation to grow.
Our bed and breakfast was run by a lovely couple who also hosted a three-course dinner with wine pairings. The meal featured traditional Newfoundland dishes, but what truly made the evening special were the stories they shared. Our host told us she had grown up in that very house, which had belonged to her parents and grandparents before her. Life in this remote part of Newfoundland had never been easy—her father, brother, and uncle had all tragically lost their lives in a fishing accident. Her grandfather had been a lighthouse keeper, a role that had been passed down through generations.
For years, the house had stood abandoned while she lived abroad, but eventually, she returned, restoring it into a welcoming B&B, hosting communal dinners and live music nights. She spoke about how the village was once built on cod fishing, but in recent years, the warming waters had driven the fish away. There were so many stories—of family, hardship, resilience, and change—that we lost track of time, completely absorbed in the conversation. It was the perfect way to end the evening.
